


(sharp-toothed) and bushy-tailed

by Sa_kun



Series: Wishlist '11 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sa_kun/pseuds/Sa_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t that hard, in the end, to convince his Aunt that he needed to run away from home (he was fifteen the first time he transformed; he was just glad the door to his bedroom had lasted through the night, really). She even helped pack his bag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(sharp-toothed) and bushy-tailed

**Author's Note:**

> So, it probably didn't end up being as Remus centric as I'd hoped, but I got him and Harry to play nice, so there's at least that. AU. No real spoilers, unless you haven't read Prisoner of Azkaban.

Harry was fifteen the first time he transformed. He wasn't too clear on the details, or when the werewolf who had to have bitten him had bit him in the first place. Because he couldn't remember, not really; there was nothing _there_.

He was just glad the door to his bedroom had lasted through the night. It must have been because it was the very first time it happened, because the wolf was weak and disoriented. There wasn't even that much damage done to the room, just some scratches on the floor and a shredded set of bed sheets.

It wasn't even anything near resembling what the Shrieking Shack had looked like, the one-time Harry had been inside it.

There was blood under his nails, around them. His skin was strained and smarting, his eyes dry and sensitive and his tongue felt about three sized too big and far too dry. His teeth were too sharp, his hearing too good, and he could smell the flowers under his bedroom window far more clearly than he'd ever been able to do before.

He was a mess, and he was terrified.

* * *

It wasn't that hard, in the end, to convince his Aunt that he needed to run away from home. She even helped him get his hands on a bag that wasn't as inconspicuous as his trunk and far easier to transport. It was a modern looking purple thing on wheels. The rucksack was made for hiking, but ideal to stuff his more outlandish Wizarding gear in (like his cauldron).

"Dare I ask what this fuss is all about, boy?" she asked once, lips pursed in a distasteful manner as she helped him repack his trunk into his new bags.

He'd done the math, had figured out that if he was bitten by a werewolf, it had to have happened when he was at the Dursleys. But it wasn't like they ever let him out of the house, was it? He hadn't been to a forest since school let out. He'd barely been to the park.

Instead, voice quiet and surprisingly steady, he said, "It was the full moon a couple of days ago. When you were visiting Aunt Marge?"

"What of it?"

"I turned into a wolf," he almost whispered.

"What?" she yelped, face paling with horror. " _You_ —!"

"I'm leaving!" Harry cut in before she could fly off at a tangent or start screaming in that shrill voice of hers. "I'm packing my stuff, and I'm leaving. I don't care what Dumbledore says; I can't stay here. Not like this. _I won't_."

"You get out of here, boy, and you don't ever come back."

"I promise," he said, throat only a little dry.

They packed the rest of Harry's things in silence.

* * *

"Where are you going?" she asked at the door.

"Library. I need to find an address."

Aunt Petunia's lips scrunched together. "Good luck. And don't come back."

"Thanks, and I won't," Harry drawled, rolling his eyes.

The walk to the library took thirty minutes. He could feel sweat trickling down along his spine behind the heavy and hot rucksack. He shifted hands to drag the suitcase along with every other minute, it felt like. It was uncomfortably heavy and not as practical as he'd hoped.

When he finally arrived at his destination, his face was more than a little red. The librarian at the desk looked a bit askance at him, but was still kind enough to help him find the information he needed. When it came through, Harry was just ecstatic that his harebrained scheme had actually come through; he hadn't known Lupin would be registered by Muggle means, he'd just sorta hoped he would be.

It didn't matter that the address was halfway across the country, that Harry'd never been there before or even really knew where it was. All that mattered was that Harry finally had a destination, an address, and a small figment of hope.

It was more than he'd had in days.

* * *

It took Harry three days to get there. Maybe, if he'd had money from the start, it wouldn't have taken so long. But as it was, what with needing to withdraw and exchange galleons into pounds, then buy a train ticket, another train ticket and then the last bit of the way by train yet again, all because Harry wasn't interested in waiting in London for a speedier or more direct train, just because he wanted to get to his destination as quickly as possible.

It took him three days to get to Lympstone, and when he finally stood there, in front of the ocean that wasn't as wild or as dark as it had been the last time he'd seen it, Harry didn't regret a thing about his travel. He had a slip of paper with an address on it in his hand, his belongings, and the small moth of hope in his chest that had taken place there when he first found the place of residence of one Remus J. Lupin.

It wasn't a common enough name that there could be a mix up, after all.

* * *

The owner of the pub in the village helped him with directions, but it still took almost two hours before Harry finally found the house. It was yellow with green windows and casements and a green wooden door with a fanlight over it. It looked a little depilated but extremely well cared for, even down to the rickety fence and the craggy looking apple trees. From where Harry stood on the dusty road, he was less than three hundred meters from the ocean. He was so busy starting out at the deep blue sea that he never noticed that the owner of the home was outside tending to his garden until the man called out his name.

"Harry?"

Harry started a bit, but he didn't have time to react more than that before Lupin placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and held on tightly to him. "Harry, what are you doing here?" Lupin's blue eyes were serious, his lips curved in a faint smile and he smelled like home baked cookies, grass and sweat. Harry, of course, burst into tears.

* * *

They were sitting in the backyard, under the shade the roof of the swing seat provided, when Harry finally calmed enough to actually be able to listen and talk in a sensible manner.

"Now, then," Lupin said, drying the last of Harry's tear with a handkerchief. "What brings you here? For that matter, how did you even find me? Aren't you supposed to be with your relatives?"

"The nice lady at the library found you," Harry mumbled, sniffling a little. "I just bought the train tickets."

"But, Harry, why—"

"I think I turned into a wolf," Harry blurted out. "I mean, last full moon. I think I…"

"Oh."

Harry wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I don't really remember much, 'cause of the pain and all, but I'm pretty sure I'm a werewolf. It's just, I can't remember getting bitten, or even seeing another werewolf. It was just you, that one time in third year. And you didn't bite me."

Lupin put an arm around Harry's shoulders. Even though it felt a bit uncomfortable because Harry wasn't used to being touched, he still soaked up the comfort of another human being for what it was. Then Lupin sniffed his hair, which made the entire situation tilt back down into weird again.

"What—"

"Hold still," Lupin said, then took a deeper sniff. "Tilt your head for me a bit." Slowly, Harry did as ordered, then froze up when Lupin put his nose behind Harry's ear to smell him again, then down where his neck and shoulder merged for one last sniff.

"There's something faintly wolf-like to your scent," Lupin said after he'd moved back to give Harry some space.

"Oh."

"We won't know for sure until next moon. Unless… Have you tried touching anything made out of silver?"

Harry shook his head. "I asked for galleons at Gringotts, then had them exchanged to pounds."

"Have you told anyone?"

"Just my Aunt. She helped me pack up, then more or less kicked me out. But I didn't want to stay. It didn't feel safe. I don't really care what Dumbledore has to say about it."

"Professor Dumbledore," Lupin absentmindedly corrected.

"Can I stay here?"

"For now," Lupin agreed. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Harry admitted. "I've been having cravings."

"Rare meat?"

"A juicy steak," Harry answered. "I normally don't even like bloody food."

"Maybe for dinner," Lupin said. "We'll see. Let's just stick with sandwiches for now."

* * *

They fell into an easy routine over the next couple of days. When Lupin went to work, part-time at the grocer's and part-time at the local comprehensive as an English and literature teacher/tutor (though the school was on break right now), Harry would go down to the ocean. He was soon tanned in a way he'd never been before, the salty water making his hair coarse and the sun put highlights in it. He'd cook for them every day, so that when Lupin came home, dinner was usually ready and waiting on the table. Sometimes he'd poke around a little with his homework, or read one of Lupin's books.

Some nights they talked about what being a werewolf meant. Sometimes Lupin'd help Harry with his homework, or they'd play a game of cards. Slowly, they got to know each other and eased into a familiar, comfortable relationship.

Some nights, they didn't talk at all.

* * *

"I don't like how easily I give in to you," Harry said one night.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

Harry scratched his chin. "Well, like the other day when you yelled at me for getting sand everywhere, right?"

"I didn't yell," Lupin corrected, his cheeks a bit red.

Harry shrugged. "No, but you weren't happy with me. You told me to clean up after myself, so I did, almost before you left the house. It's like, part of me wants to please you so badly I can't even try _not_ to obey you."

Lupin looked almost amused, his blue eyes glittering. "You want to roll over and show your stomach."

Harry blanched, then nodded, the tips of his ears bright red. "Is that it?"

"Possibly. I haven't really interacted with a lot of werewolves, but I stayed with a pack in Canada, once. The structure was hierarchal. Alpha, beta, omega. Young ones making up the rest of the litter. There was a clear chain of command. I'm older than you."

"So, you're my alpha and I'm your beta?"

"Or a, um, puppy. What's the word, cub? What do wolves have?"

"Cubs, I think."

Lupin nodded. "I think you'll be an alpha, though, when you're grown. You're too stubborn for anything else."

"But you're older—"

"—and quite happy to follow someone else's lead. I don't think you are, Harry. There's too much of your mother in you."

* * *

Two weeks before the full moon, Dumbledore rang the doorbell.

It was Harry who answered, because Lupin was still at work. It was hard to say who was more surprised, Harry or Dumbledore. Probably Dumbledore, Harry decided, because he'd never seen the man caught off guard before.

"Oh," said Harry. "Hello, Professor."

"Harry! What are you doing here?"

Harry hadn't been certain until right then that Lupin never told anyone that Harry was here, that he'd been here for almost two weeks now. "I…" Harry's throat closed up. Without saying anything, he stepped back and invited Dumbledore inside.

Dumbledore took a seat at the rickety kitchen table while Harry fixed some tea and biscuits (not too much, because dinner was coming along quite nicely in the oven and would be done in an hour or so, just in time for Lupin to come home).

"Harry, my boy?"

Harry clutched his mug tightly in his hand. "I turned. Last full moon," he managed to say. It was the third time he'd said it, but it never really became easier to say. "Coming here was the only thing I could come up with."

"Oh, dear boy. You should have…" Dumbledore trailed off.

"Should've what, sir?"

"If you had informed us at once when you were bitten—"

"I wasn't," Harry cut in, his ears going a bit red at the audacity of interrupting _Dumbledore_. "I mean, if I was, then I can't remember it. I just… _turned_. Lupin even helped me check; we can't even find a scar, sir."

"That is most peculiar." Dumbledore was frowning. "There is a theory that lycanthropy is, in fact, split in two different directions. The one Remus suffers from, and the one that is hereditary. It would explain why your transformation was not preceded by a bite. But it does not explain why you transformed, when none of your ancestors did. I should think I would have known about it, had they done so. It's a rather inconspicuous secret to keep, after all. Rumours start so effortlessly."

"Is it okay if I stay here, then?"

"No one knows?"

Harry shook his head. "Just us, and you, and the librarian I asked about the address back in Surrey."

"Ah, yes, Remus is registered in the Muggle world, isn't he? Quite remarkable, if I do say so myself. I will research this, of course. When you return to Hogwarts, I will have Poppy take a look at you."

It hadn't occurred to Harry until right then that he might not be allowed to come back, so the fact that he was allowed to return was doubly relieving.

"I must inform Severus of your condition as well. I trust you understand why?"

A grimace on his face, Harry nodded. "D'you think Hermione could learn how to brew the potion? In the future, I mean?"

"It is quite likely. She is a very astute and bright witch. I will leave it in your hands to inform your friends. I would like to inform some of your teachers, should an accident arise."

Harry bit his lip as he thought about it. "Maybe Professor MacGonagall," he said eventually. "I don't really know about the other teachers. Um. Hagrid, I guess, but sometimes… He's not the world's best secret keeper, s'all."

"No, indeed. Perhaps not him. How about Filius and Pomona?"

"They'd be all right with, sir?"

"I should think so. They never looked down on Remus, after all. Have you thought about what you want to tell the Weasleys?"

"I think I kinda have to tell them. If I want to stay there again." Harry took a deep breath and leaned forward over the table, his hands locked tight around his mug of tea. "I haven't actually… It's so new, and scary, and I don't really know what to do. Coming here was all I could think of, so I did, but now that I'm here I don't really know what to do, or, I don't know. I just… I don't know what to do, sir."

Dumbledore placed a warm hand over his. "I think you will find that it will all work out in the end. It may seem impossible now, but I have found that the future really is the best place to look back on such things. It all seems so trivial, then."

"I guess," Harry whispered.

"I will have Petunia sign a paper sharing guardianship between her and Remus. It will be sufficient in the Muggle world."

"It's that easy?" Harry wondered.

Dumbledore smiled. "Hardly. But I am a quite formidable wizard."

"That you are, sir," Harry agreed. "Do you want to stay for dinner, sir? I've made lasagne; there's plenty enough for three."

"Well, then. I do believe I shall stay, my boy."

* * *

The Wolfsbane potion arrived by mail a week later. Double doses, neatly arrayed in two rows of gleaming bottles filled to the brim with murky liquid. Harry just about threw up the first time he drank the potion down. After that, it was a struggle to keep taking the potion, but he knew what would happen if he didn't, so Harry didn't dare complain.

There was something almost like pity and sympathy in Lupin's eyes, but he never said anything.

* * *

It hurt. It hurt like nothing Harry'd ever experienced before. He hadn't remembered a thing from the last and first time he'd been through this. Maybe it was the potion, maybe it was because he'd already been through this before. But he was aware now, awake and in pain in a way he'd never been before.

For a moment, Harry just wanted to die.

It was over almost before it started. It was disorienting, suddenly being on all fours, but at the same time, nothing had ever felt as natural. He was a wolf, and that was that.

Lupin nosed at him, snuffled at his ears and his throat. With a whine, Harry rolled over and let Lupin nose and sniff at his soft underbelly. Satisfied, Lupin sat back and allowed Harry to curl up next to him with his snout on his paws. Lupin licked his nose, then lay down as well.

Harry slept through the night and didn't wake again until the transformation overtook him when the moon set.

* * *

"I'm a bit sore," Harry said the next morning. "But not, you know, hurt or anything. Just… _sore_."

"Without the potion you'd be in a world in pain. We would both be." Lupin shrugged on a robe and handed Harry a blanket that he gratefully wrapped around his shoulders. "Say what you will about Severus, but the man does know his potions."

"I guess," Harry agreed around a yawn. It wasn't that he was tired, per se, because he'd slept through the night – warm, calm and comfy – but his _body_ was tired, his muscles and bones were weary and he just wanted to rest.

"Is it okay if I stay here for the rest of the summer?"

Lupin smiled. "I think so. I know I'd love to have you here."

Harry returned the smile. "Did Dumbledore tell you about the guardianship?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry." Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, he did. I think it's a wonderful idea."

Harry grinned so wide his cheeks hurt and he ducked his head. "Yeah, me, too. You're not so bad, for an adult."

Lupin laughed and ruffled Harry's hear. "Well, for a kid, you're not so bad, either.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the wishlist-fic community on livejournal. Prompt and prompter as follows: A Harry Potter story, preferably Remus centric if possible. Maybe him and Harry bonding? I like the idea of a pack mentality Remus and Harry, by [mathematagi](http://mathematagi.livejournal.com).


End file.
